


Homecoming

by willowbough



Category: Dominic (TV)
Genre: Family Reunions, Gen, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Missing Scene, Old Family Retainers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:04:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6661513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowbough/pseuds/willowbough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from Episode 7. Immediately follows Reparations. </p><p>Dominic reunites with Bessie, while Beever contemplates the human heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Refreshing your acquaintance with canon after many years can either suppress or stimulate the fic bunny. In my case, it's proven to be the latter.
> 
> Thanks to the wonders of technology, I have now seen _Boy Dominic_ (1974)--which is lovely, but very different in tone (much more episodic and domestic) from its sequel, _Dominic_ (more plot-driven and adventurous), which I have likewise re-watched. And I like both series, though some of the timeline inconsistencies are enough to drive me straight up a wall. 
> 
> Of the two, _Dominic_ lends itself more readily to fic, because it skips or glosses over a number of emotional beats that I for one would love to have seen play out onscreen. Like a reunion between Dominic and former housekeeper Bessie Dearlove (hired on as a cook at Beever's military academy, though not without some conflict between Dominic and Beever first). So I went ahead and wrote it myself.

The academy was dark, save for one room, from which light still emanated like a beacon. Light and warmth.

The kitchen. Miss Dearlove must still be up, which shouldn’t have surprised Beever, remembering her almost painful anxiety when he’d left for Castle Stainton with Lucy and Lady Harriet hours before. He glanced at Dominic, saw mingled apprehension and longing in that all-too-expressive face, and motioned for him to follow.

They entered together, but from the moment she turned around, she had eyes only for the boy. Eyes that lit up and filled with tears simultaneously.

“Nick!”

The boy crossed the room in a few long strides and was caught in an embrace that he returned whole-heartedly, without a trace of embarrassment or self-consciousness. And Beever, who’d been about to make some remark about retrieving the prodigal, found himself unexpectedly struck dumb by the fierce exclusivity of their reunion. At this moment, no one else existed, for either of them.

Miss Dearlove pulled back a little to wipe her eyes and glower up at her charge. “I’d box your ears if you weren’t so tall, for giving me such a fright these past few days!”

“Go ahead if it makes you feel better.” The tremor in the boy’s voice could have been laughter, tears, or something poised precariously between the two. “I’m sorry, Bessie! I’m sorry. I never meant to worry you. But I had to do _something_! For _them_ …”

For the parents he loved, so cruelly reft from him. Every action of the boy’s, however rash or impetuous, had been driven by that love…and that loyalty, Beever realized. Something he should have seen or anticipated, long before Dominic made his escape through the bedroom window.

Bessie’s gaze softened at once. “Dear lamb…”

Retreating from the kitchen to allow his ward and his cook some privacy, Beever found himself wondering. If _he_ had been murdered, suddenly and violently, would someone have gone to the same extremes, risked life and limb to avenge _his_ death?

He had the feeling that he already knew the answer—and the knowledge left a strangely hollow sensation in his chest.

From the kitchen, their intertwined voices reached his ears.

“—suppose you expect me to feed you now.”

“Not just me, the captain too. It’s been _such_ a long day, and we’re both starving—please, Bessie?”

“Ought to be bread and water for _you_ , Master Dominic, but happen there’s a York ham will do for your supper and his. Mind you clean up, after—I’m not coming down in the morning to a pile of dirty dishes.”

“We’ll leave everything ship-shape and Bristol fashion, I promise.”

“Right. Well, then, lad, come and help me with these plates. _After_ you’ve washed your hands and that smudge off your face! And don’t think that begging look will work on _me_ —I’ve known you since you were born, I’m up to all your tricks!”

Hearing the boy’s murmur of acquiescence, Beever felt his mouth twitch into a reluctant smile.

_“Discipline is one thing. The human heart is another.”_

Mr. Travis’s words—and they’d done as much to change his mind as Dominic’s attempt at passive resistance. But less, perhaps, than the look of mingled defiance and entreaty in the boy’s eyes. Seeing it, Beever had felt himself waver, and the question “Can Miss Dearlove cook?” had emerged, almost without conscious volition.

A month’s trial. That was all he would concede, back then. But listening now to their exchange, the endearments, the teasing, the scolding that imperfectly concealed love beyond measure, he knew that he’d already struck his colors.

He couldn’t find it in his heart—the heart he _did_ possess, damn it all, no matter what others might think—to part these two who had already lost so much. To take away one more thing the boy loved. Not even in the name of “discipline.”

Miss Dearlove had a position at the academy for as long as she wished.


End file.
